Guarded Heart
by whatimpunsexual
Summary: Shizaya one shot. Izaya's very guarded, until Shizuo catches him off his guard. Could this change the normally visible hatred between the two men into something different?


Izaya Orihara had locked his heart up in chains. It had been broken before, bandaged, stapled, taped back together. He didn't seem to know what it was like to love someone, or really have intense feelings for someone.

That is, until Shizuo Heiwajima came along and ripped the chains off of his soft heart.

He tried to keep himself guarded, to keep any feelings locked out. He had tried to keep it all sheltered, but with Shizuo, it was hard to.

The man wanted him dead. It seemed like everyone did, so he dealt with it. Even his own sisters didn't care much for him, though he couldn't say he didn't feel the same.

Izaya was, thankfully, alone in his apartment-slash-office. If he hadn't been alone, he wouldn't have started crying like he did. Tears slipped down his cheeks and fell onto his desk.  
No matter how hard he tried, the tears wouldn't stop. He felt his shoulders shake as he let out almost silent sobs.

He finally let his guard down.

The bad points of his life washed over him. He had no real friends, no family who actually cared about him, no life outside of being an informant and fighting with Shizuo, he'd been em _stabbed_ on his birthday, and to top it all off, even now, he was alone. In his large apartment, completely alone.

If only he had been nicer to people to begin with, then he wouldn't have been so lonely as he was now.

He sat in silence, with the exception of his small, quiet sobs, until there was a loud knock on his front door.

He straightened in surprise, quickly drying his desk of his tears. Then he dried his own eyes, hoping they weren't as puffy and red as they felt.

He called, putting on his normal, nonchalant tone, "Coming~!"

There was no response, though he didn't expect one.

He practically skipped to the door, and opened it, giving one of his grins. He was about to say his normal 'Welcome', when he realized it was a certain blond in a bartender suit.

"Oh," his grin faded to a small smirk. "What is it that _you_ want, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo's eye twitched as he looked down at the so-called flea. Then he stopped. Facial expression softening from a scowl to a confused look.

"You were crying," Shizuo said bluntly.

"What?" Izaya was shocked that Shizuo had noticed, but he tried his best to keep his cool. "No I wasn't, you much be seeing things, Shizu-chan."

"Your eyes are puffy, flea," he raised his eyebrow. "I know what someone who was just crying looks like. Let me in."

"No," then he processed. "Wait. Why do you care?"

"I don't know," the blond seemed to be questioning himself. "But I do for some reason. Just let me in."

Izaya felt his heart squeeze, like the imaginary chains on the muscle were tightening themselves as to not be ripped off so easily by the fortissimo of Ikebukuro.

"Fine," he spoke after a second of silence. "Come on in."

The dark haired male stepped aside for the fake blond, who stepped in after a short second.

Shizuo looked to the informant not two seconds after the door was shut.

"I didn't know _you_ had the _ability_ to cry," he remarked, so quiet that Izaya almost didn't hear.

"Of course I do, protozoan," Izaya scoffed. "I'm only human."

"Look, if you need to talk, I'm here."

Izaya was taken aback yet again, by these simple words. He had never expected to hear them from the man that seemingly hated him, wanted him dead.

"You can't be serious," he put on an act. "Like I'd tell my feelings to _you_?"

"Why not?" Shizuo prodded at him with the question. Izaya felt the chains on his heart falling away at the soft look in the taller male's brown eyes.  
The flea in the room hesitated, before speaking again, softly. His voice strained, "Because I've locked you out."

Five simple words traveled to Shizuo's ears, and it took a moment for him to process. He had heard what the info broker had said, but he didn't understand exactly what it meant, so he decided to ask.

"What do you mean, Izaya?" His eyebrow raised. "You locked me out of what?"

Izaya's heart squeezed again, but the chains had already fallen away. He had no protection at the moment, he had no way to stop his emotions from spilling out over the edge of this seemingly endless emotional glass that had been filling since high school.

"My heart. My life. You shouldn't be caring as much as you are," the last words came out choked, a lump formed in his throat as he held himself back from shedding tears in front of his so-called _enemy._

"There's nothing you can do about me caring, Izaya," Shizuo murmured, just loud enough that Izaya could hear. "So just tell me what's going on."  
"No," Izaya was having trouble keeping his voice audible. He almost couldn't talk. He gave a weak cough in attempt to clear away that suffocating lump in his throat. "I can't."

"Tell me."

The voice was so calm, so unusually calm, that it made the informant _want_ to spill everything. He _wanted_ to tell the man he had locked away from him for so long that he was crying because of the outcome of all the horrible things he had done over the years. How he was crying because he was alone.

But he couldn't form the words to say.

"Is it because you're alone?" Izaya hadn't noticed how close Shizuo had gotten until he felt gentle arms wrap around him. It was such a major contrast to the usual beatings he received from the blond dyed man who held him, and he couldn't help but hate it.

He hated that Shizuo _knew_ what was wrong. He absolutely _despised_ what was happening in this moment, but he couldn't control the flow of tears any longer.

Choked sobs were let out into Shizuo's warm chest as the info broker nodded.

Shizuo's soft voice sounded again, calming, almost loving, but it felt like a lie.

"It's alright. Let it out," a sigh came. "Then we'll talk more. Okay?"

Izaya nodded once more, tears wetting the fabric of the blond's precious bartender suit, but the taller man didn't seem to care all that much.

They stood like that for a while, before Shizuo picked up the smaller man and sat on the informant's couch with him.

Izaya didn't get to talk, nor did he stop crying until he fell asleep, in Shizuo's arms.

Neither of them minded this. And neither of them really wanted to speak much either. They didn't mind the situation they had ended up in.

But Izaya knew one thing after this experience.

He knew that the Fortissimo of Ikebukuro didn't _really_ want him dead.

Shizuo Heiwajima actually _cared_ about Izaya Orihara. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, it was true.

Maybe Izaya didn't have to shield his heart from Shizuo as much as he thought he did.\


End file.
